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Morty’s ears rang with the sound of blood pumping to the rhythm of his heartbeat. He felt his heart hammering against his tender ribcage as his body writhed underneath the older man holding him down. The urge to squirm only grew with the resistance of Rick’s large hands gripping his thighs.
“At this rate, the rain won’t stop until morning.” The older man said, lowering himself to bring his face closer to Morty’s. “We’re going to end up being trapped here all night. Things will go much smoother if you just listen to me.” His voice was low, a little husky as he delicately whispered against Morty’s ear. The sensation of the older man’s breath against his skin made a shiver run down his spine and a whimper crawl past his lips.
Morty struggled to speak, mouth open but no words dared to form. Rick pulled back, looking down at the boy. A flash of lightning from the storm seeped in through the windows, illuminating Rick’s face, a grin tugged at the corner of his lips. “Need help taking these off?” He asked, hands beginning to feel their way up the boy’s pants and reaching for the waistband.
Morty shook his head frantically, eyes wide as he tried to keep his pants up, tugging at the waistband against Rick’s attempts. “N-no, I don’t want them off.” Morty’s voice went high with panic, shaking and shrill.
Large hands grab the boy by his hips, causing the teen to mewl under the old man, writhing as a chuckle came from above. A firm pressure began to rub between Morty’s legs through his soaking jeans. “What do we have here?” Rick asked, pressing his palm fully against the boy’s crotch.
A high whine ripped from the teen's throat, tears began to well in his eyes. Rick fumbled slightly with the button of the younger’s pants, tugging them up to his thighs and exposing the boy's hardening shame. “Getting pretty excited about grandpa taking off your pants there, kid.” He said with a teasing manner in his voice.
Morty’s face burned hot with embarrassment. He squirmed, trying to cover himself. “I-I’m not,” Morty said with a pathetic whimper, his body trembling as predatory eyes devour him.
Rick tore off the boy’s rain-soaked pants the rest of the way, tossing them somewhere off to the side, not looking or caring where they ended up. “You’re not, huh?” He moved Morty’s hands, the straining in the boy’s boxers gave another answer.
Morty felt helpless. Arms pinned to his sides on the dusty floor, red face with tears running down his cheeks, bruised legs spread and displaying the most embarrassing parts of his body to the older man keeping him in place. He felt Rick inch closer to his body, placing himself nicely between his spread legs. It was too good of a fit, being able to feel something hard poking against his left thigh. The teen released a soft gasp, eyes locked onto Rick's hips, noting the outline in the man’s own boxers. He looked hard as a rock.
Rick cursed under his breath and pressed his hips upward, the hardness of the older man’s cock dug into supple flesh, dragging a groan from the man’s lips. “Fuck.” He panted, easing into the motions of grinding against Morty’s thigh.
There was a tight churning in Morty’s stomach, it pulled at his insides and pulsed at his groin. His hips twitched and his legs jerked together, knocking the hard bulge closer to his own. Rick continued to rock his hips, the new placement over Morty’s groin made the boy unable to control his voice. He panted and mewled, sounding needy and pathetic as jolts of pleasure ran through him and tingled the base of his spine.
“You like that?” Rick asked, voice so breathy and low that Morty was barely able to register it. He raised his hips, needing more friction, earning a pleasant growl from the man above him. “Never thought you’d be such an easy slut.”
A shuddering cry rips through him at the words, tears blearing his vision and running down his cheeks, staining them with their wetness. Rick let go of his hold on Morty’s arms to grip soft thighs, pressing them together to tighten the pressure around them. The older man groaned and pulled his hips back for a moment.
Morty whined at the loss of contact where he needed it most, a desperate plea for more without any words. His body trembled, he couldn’t produce enough brain power to form anything coherent, just gasps and cries.
There was a push between his thighs, it felt hard and wet. Rick thrusted slowly against Morty’s hips until his cock poked out on the other side of the boy’s legs. Morty felt it pulse and throb, precum leaking from its tip and spreading against his skin.
Morty watched with wide and teary eyes, hiccuping with moans and gasps as pleasure began to snowball. He got louder as thrusts became faster, keening while a burning grew in his pelvis. If it wasn’t for the rain that kept them trapped in the building, he’s sure someone back on the grounds would hear him.
Rick held tightly to the boy’s thighs, gripping them like a lifeline, legs bouncing over his shoulder. The older man leaned forward, bending Morty’s body and lifting his hips upward. The boy cried out as the thrusts became more intense.
He clawed at the wooden floor, toes curled and thighs squeezed. Rick’s face got so close, all he could smell was alcohol-laced breath as it puffed into his nose. “F-fuck. That’s it.” He rasped, hips not slowing down. “Cry for me.”
Morty hiccuped and shuddered. As if with the permission Rick gave him, more tears fell down his reddened cheeks. He was so close, the churning in his stomach got tighter, pulling his insides in knots as Rick’s cock grinded against his still-clothed one. His head was getting fuzzy, his throat became dry with his wailing, rain-soaked skin shined with a sheen of sweat, and he began to see stars in his vision as thrusts became erratic.
He arched his back in whatever way his bent body could, reaching higher with his hips against the older man’s to meet the pace. He needed to cum. Through the haze in his mind, he heard the man above him grunt, curse, and pant under his breath as hot and sticky wetness splattered across his stomach and chest. Rick came, hips jerking while still wrapped in Morty’s thighs.
The pleasure stopped before Morty could taste its ecstasy. Now, uncomfortably aching in his boxers, soaking them with an embarrassing amount of precum. He whined, hips arching and searching for anything to release him.
Rick let go of the boy’s thighs, biting back a groan from unsheathing himself. Morty lay with his trembling legs splayed, open around Rick’s torso, breathing heavily from being brought so close to the edge. He sobbed as a gentle touch caressed his aching cock.
Rick leaned over the weak boy’s body, his hand teasing the needy appendage. It felt so cruel. “Not enough for you?” Rick murmured. That low voice sent jolts down Morty’s spine. He shook his head, blinking away tears, opening his mouth to make a plea, but couldn’t muster a word.
Rick palmed the boy rougher, eliciting a pitiful whine. It earned a grin from the old man. The teasing continued to torture the teen until his shaking hands reached to grasp Rick’s, guiding the older man to slip inside his boxers for a more direct touch.
“P-please…” Teary blue eyes, pitiful expression, and trembling lips. Morty witnessed Rick shiver at the action. The single word took a lot of effort from the shy teen between all the crying and moaning, but it was more than enough to unravel the old man.
A firm squeeze causes Morty to gasp. Rick bites his lip and moves his fist slowly around the teen’s hard cock, fighting the eager grin on his face. “Finally able to talk, huh? Why don’t you tell me what you want.”
A groan falls from Morty’s lips, he wants so much right now. Words bounce and swirl around the teen’s brain, trying to come out of his mouth coherently but becoming a series of babbles.
“More. Touch. Please. Inside .”
Rick slipped his hand out of the boy's boxers, ignoring the hiccuping whines as he pulled Morty up by his arm. The boy’s legs felt like jello, wobbly and bouncy, holding on to Rick for leverage before being dragged to the other side of the room.
Morty was pushed against the edge of a dusty countertop, knocking aside old books and broken radio equipment. Large hands started at the boy’s waist, “You want to be touched inside , huh?” Rick growled into Morty’s ear, causing the smaller one to whimper, nodding his head and pushing his hips out. He wants so badly to be touched, his body burning with need.
Hands began to roam, feeling up the boy’s sides and kissing the nape of the teen’s neck. Morty moaned at the affection, leaning into each touch and caress of rough fingers on his skin. Each movement was slow and gentle at the start, tracing lines around his ribcage, stomach, and hips, before squeezing his chest and thighs while giving heated kisses to the boy’s neck before attacking it with a bite.
Morty yelped as teeth sunk into sensitive skin, whimpering as the older man kept his sharp teeth firmly in place. Rick held the teen to his chest as he squirmed, biting harder with each movement. Morty cried out, sobbing at the pain shooting through his neck. He stopped his squirming when his brain began to confuse the sensation as pleasure, sending jolts to his groin. Why did it start to feel so good?
Rick growled through the bite, drooling down the younger’s neck before sucking the skin. Morty keened, biting his lip and holding back moans as he felt a velvety tongue feel along the abused flesh.
Fingers felt up Morty’s chin, making their way to the teen’s lips and slowly tracing them. Morty panted and opened his mouth as the fingers reached his bottom lip. The long appendages slipped inside and stroked his tongue. Morty was eager to close his lips around Rick’s fingers and suck on them, moaning as they reached deeper inside his mouth. The fingers tasted slightly salty as they explored, feeling rough and large around his small tongue.
“Damn,” Rick moaned under his breath, pressing his fingers a little deeper until the boy began to gag, reaching the back of his throat. “You really want this, don’t you, kid?” Morty was too embarrassed to answer, but it was an obvious yes . Even if he wanted to speak, his voice would be obstructed by Rick’s fingers.
Drool began to drip from the corner of Morty’s lips as he suckled, his eager tongue coating the fingers with saliva as the older man finally tugged off the last piece of remaining clothing from the teen’s body. Boxers slid down his thighs and pooled at his ankles, exposing his body with nowhere left to hide.
Morty could hear the hum of approval from Rick, feeling his large hand slide down his shoulder, dipping into the small of his back and making him squeak at the tickling sensation. Rick huffed out a chuckle, making the boy feel embarrassed that he let out such a sound.
The embarrassment stuck to the boy like a badge, having his bruised knee hiked up against the counter he leaned against. There was a tingling pain in the sore scrape, but the situation sent the feeling straight to his aching groin. He whimpered as he felt the rough fingers rub over the sensitive flesh between his cheeks.
Oh, God. Oh God, oh God, oh God! Any semblance of rational thought beyond this point was impossible. Morty bit his lip and tensed as the older man teased the entrance with light pushes, barely using any force.
“Shh, relax,” Rick murmured behind Morty, pulling his fingers out of the boy's mouth and using the spit-coated digits to ease into the tight ring of muscles. “Look at you, such a mess down here.”
Rick never stopped teasing the poor boy, even as he braced himself against the counter, his insides being intruded by the large finger. Morty’s mind fell into a swirl, wanting to remind himself about how shameful this was, but also want him to loosen up and be more shameless. A long moan fell from the boy’s lips as Rick pushed his finger deeper, reaching and rubbing against the inner walls of his body. He pushed his hips out a bit further, rocking them against Rick’s hand until he jolted with a high-pitched wail.
“There it is.” That was all Rick said before he rubbed that spot again, making the boy arch his back and cry out, grasping for purchase on the countertop. The older man stilled for a moment, letting Morty catch his breath before squeezing in another finger, starting to stretch his hole.
Once relaxed enough, the fingers began to move. They reached even deeper and curled in just the right spots, causing Morty to lose control of his hips. He moved them back, hardly meeting Rick’s fingers in time, just erratically and with desperate need. He’s close. He’s so fucking close. One more curl with Rick’s long fingers makes him see stars against white. His body shakes and jerks as he finally comes undone, making a mess all over the countertop.
He chokes out a few sobs, tears running down his reddened cheeks. He finally tasted that ecstasy. His body goes limp, and Rick has to hold him steady, heaving and panting hard.
“Hope you don’t think this is over yet.” Rick’s dark voice cuts through Morty’s hazy mind.
Before Morty could question the words, he’s pushed back onto the counter, stomach pressed against his own mess, as his cheeks are spread wide and something much harder is pushed against his puckered entrance.
Rick grunts behind him, pushing his hips forward and keeping Morty still as his tip slips inside the stretched muscles. The boy cries out, feeling a twinge of pain shoot up his spine.
“H-hurts.” Morty manages to cry out, panting heavily as he does his best to collect himself.
“Still pretty tight.” Rick groaned under his breath, pulling his hips back slightly. Morty hears the older man spit, making some slick sounds behind him before pressing the hard tip against his entrance again. Morty still whined, but the slip was smoother this time, reaching a bit deeper on the first thrust.
He gasped and moaned. The stretch burned as Rick thrusted again, pushing even deeper than his fingers reached. Morty felt like he was at his limit. One more thrust and Rick was in all the way, hips pressed into supple ass cheeks. Morty wasn’t sure if he was seeing straight anymore.
Rick moaned, holding the boy’s small hips with a tight grip, slowly moving and taking Morty with him. “You feel that? It’s all inside you.” He grunted into the boy’s ear, leaning against his back.
He did feel it. Morty gave a slow nod with his head against the counter, panting and whimpering as an answer. Rick took a handful of the boy’s short brown hair and yanked his head up, just enough to see the pathetic expression the younger had. Morty whined as his head was tugged, his eyes blissed out and wide as tears clung to his eyelashes, and drool trailed down his chin. The old man let out a feral sound, almost slamming the boy’s head against the cool and dusty countertop with a tight grip still in his hair as he began to thrust.
Rick grunted and panted with the effort of sliding in and out of the taut hole, cursing and praising the boy all at the same time with rough hands burning up his skin. Morty couldn’t take it, he could feel the tightness churning up his insides again, pleasure building too quickly that his cock ached even worse. Hearing the intimate slapping of skin mixed with the ragged breaths only tightened the knots in his stomach.
Morty moaned, trying to speak but the attempt was interrupted by Rick shoving his fingers down the boy’s throat. He gagged and sputtered, his hole tensing with the sudden threat of throwing up. Rick moaned. “Just like that, s-so good for me.” He praised Morty, thrusting harder, drawing his fingers back slightly to play with the boy’s tongue.
The pace increased, and Morty rocked against the edge of the counter. His hips pushed out to meet Rick’s every thrust, making him slam deeper and reach that bundle of nerves that made the boy cry with delight. Shakes and moans quickly turned into jolts and wails, Morty’s vision doubled as he felt something explode within him, seeping out and dripping onto his wobbly legs.
Rick groaned with pleasure but still rocked his hips, thrusting through his orgasm. Morty moaned and hiccuped, nails digging into the countertop and leaving the smallest scratch marks as he cums again, shooting his mess onto the floor below them.
Morty is hot, sticky with sweat and his own cum as he wakes up in the quiet of the cabin. He covers his mouth as he tries to control his panting, looking around in a panic to see if anyone else was awake. Moonlight spills across the wooden floor, and crickets chirp but no one stirs. He peeks into his boxers and grimaces at the mess he made. His face is red, and his hair is stuck to his head from the sweat. He’s definitely going to need a shower, but it’ll have to wait until morning.
Only in a dream.